


Better Than a Dream Part Four (Week 14)

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Sam Winchester Reader-inserts [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:04:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: This has been a long time coming and I'm so glad to finally be finished with it!





	Better Than a Dream Part Four (Week 14)

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a long time coming and I'm so glad to finally be finished with it!

You freeze, too shocked to reciprocate for a few moments. Sam starts to pull away when he realizes you’re not responding, but you finally move. You grab at his head, curling your hand in his hair, and pull him in again. He moves closer, fixing the angle and looping his arm around your waist. **  
**

“Y/N,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against yours.

“Sam,” your reply with a smile.

“Is this okay?” he asks, gently brushing your hair back with his free hand.

“Yes,” you assure him. “I want this.”

“I want this, too.”

He kisses you again, slow and sweet. You can feel every defense you’ve ever put up crumbling as you return the kiss. Sam lays back, tugging you into hi lap. You go willingly. Your knees land easily on either side of his narrow hips and you brace your forearms on his shoulders. His hair is soft between your fingers.

Sam tilts his head back to gaze up at you with blown pupils. “How far are you comfortable going?” he inquires, hands on your waist.

“Can we just… make out?” you say nervously. “I don’t want to jump into anything too fast.”

“Alright. I’m okay with that.”

Sam’s arms are firm as they pull you closer. He keeps things under control, which you’re grateful for. It would be so easy to let the situation escalate.

After a long time, he pulls back to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “We should probably go to bed,” he says with a sigh. “Check out is at eleven and I know Dean wants to get going in the morning.”

“I don’t want to sleep alone,” you admit, plucking nervously at a loose thread on the couch.

Sam lifts his head. “Do you want me to join you?”

“Just sleep,” you point out.

“Just sleep,” he agrees.

You smile. “Okay.”

* * *

Sleeping next to Sam is the best feeling ever. The man is a human furnace, which is especially nice because the motel blankets really don’t do anything against the cold night air. His arms hold you tight against his chest, the length of his body solid and comforting against your back. To be honest, it’s the best night’s sleep you’ve ever had. Not even Dean’s snarky comments the next morning can spoil that.

* * *

Dating while hunting is hard, as you and Sam soon discover. Living in close quarters with Dean for weeks on end without a chance to return to the Bunker is enough to drive the most patient person crazy. Not to mention the almost nonexistent lack of privacy. With you and Sam together now, you would much rather get a separate room every night. Funds don’t allow for that, though, which is probably a good thing. It reduces the temptation to let things move too quickly. It also means getting alone time is hard. You haven’t been on a date in weeks by the time you finally make it back to the bunker

“Can we go out tonight?” Sam asks in a low voice. Dean’s watching Dr. Sexy reruns on the library and munching on a massive bag of chips.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you reply with a smile.

Sam dinks around on Google for a few minutes to come up with a cheap plan and grabs the Impala keys from Dean.

“Ready?” he asks, lacing up his boots.

“Hell yes.”

* * *

Sam takes you to a dollar movie theater.

They’re playing the latest Captain America movie and you snag a couple seats near the back while Sam buys snacks. He flops down in the seat beside you, holding out a cup.

“Thanks,” you say, taking it and putting it in the cup holder on your other side. “What did you get?”

“Popcorn and a couple different candies.”

“Any licorice?”

“No! Who are you, Dean? Licorice is gross!”

“It’s a classic movie treat, Sam!”

“That doesn’t make it any less gross.”

You shove his shoulder playfully. He laughs and someone closer to the front of the theater makes a shushing noise.

You grab a handful of popcorn and lean back in your seat, angling yourself so your arm is pressed up against Sam’s. For a dollar theater, their popcorn isn’t half bad. The seats are lacking some padding and you avoid looking at the ceiling so you don’t have to think about the questionable dark patches, but you wouldn’t mind coming back to this particular theater.

About fifteen minutes into the movie, Sam’s arm finds its way around your shoulders. You’re more than happy to snuggle in against his side for the rest of the movie, taking the popcorn so he has his other hand free.

“What did you think of the movie?” he asks when you’re leaving after the end credits scene.

“It was really good,” you say, tossing your trash into the can by the door. “I’d watch it again, given the opportunity.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Sam holds the door, ever the perfect gentleman.

“Are we going back to the bunker now?”

He stops by the impala and loops his arm around your waist, holding you close. There’s something in his expression that sends shivers down your spine. “Do you want to go back to the bunker?”

“Well, Dean is there, but so is your bedroom,” you say, sliding your hands up his chest. “And I’m not sure I want tonight to happen in a motel, but I also don’t want Dean to hear anything.”

Realization lights up his face. “My room is far enough from his. He won’t hear,” he assures you.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“The bunker it is, then.”

* * *

Sam towers over you, but he bends so you don’t have to stretch as far to kiss him. You cling to him as the two of you make your way from the garage to Sam’s bedroom. You’re vaguely aware of Dean and Cas in the library, but your focus is on Sam and the hand that has made its way under the back of your shirt. As soon as you’re past the library, Sam wraps his hands under your ass and lifts.

Your arousal spikes as he picks you up without a break in kissing. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, helping him support you as he makes his way down the hall. The fact that he can carry you almost effortlessly is beyond hot.

Sam kicks his bedroom door shut behind him and drops you onto the bed, following you down when you don’t let go of his neck. His body blankets your own, pressing you into the mattress.

“You are wearing too many clothes,” you complain, tugging at his shirt. He’s wearing the red and black plaid that you’re particularly fond of, but right now you can’t bring yourself to care. You need to touch skin.

“Let me up and I can solve that problem.”

You reluctantly release your grip on him. Sam stands and begins slowly unbuttoning his shirt. You watch him hungrily, taking the opportunity to begin quickly shedding your own clothes. With every inch of smooth golden skin Sam reveals, the heat in your belly grows. How you got so lucky, you’re not entirely sure, but this man is gorgeous inside and out.

“Your turn,” he says teasingly once he’s standing naked at the foot of the bed.

You eagerly wriggle out of your clothes, lifting your hips so Sam can help pull your jeans and panties down your thighs. You hesitate at the hem of your shirt.

Sam holds your hips, thumbs tracing softly over the bones. “Are you okay?”

“I just… I don’t want you to think any less of me,” you say softly, all confidence long gone.

“Y/N.” He crawls onto the bed and leans down to kiss you softly. “I could never. If you’re not comfortable, that’s okay. We can do something else.”

“No, I want to do this.” You take a deep breath and tug your shirt up.

As soon as it’s out of the way, Sam’s big hands move in to cradle your breasts. You find yourself arching into his touch, frantically throwing your shirt aside. He works your nipples with his fingers and lips, driving you crazy before moving on. You forget all about your scars as he explores your body. He’s bound and determined to find every erogenous zone, not stopping until you’re a squirmy, dripping mess underneath him. Only then does he settle between your legs.

Sam’s hands are huge on your thighs, spreading your legs wide beneath his hungry gaze. He shoots you a grin.

“Sam, please,” you gasp, trying to squirm despite his grip. “I need you.”

“What do you need from me, sweetheart?” he says, leaning down so his breath flows hot over the slick skin of your pussy.

“Your… your mouth,” you manage.

He latches onto your inner thigh, just above where his hand has you pinned. You whine as he sucks and nibbles the sensitive skin, drawing blood to the surface.

“Sa-am,” you groan, grabbing at him. You definitely don’t mind him marking you up, but it can wait. You tug at his hair, pulling his head towards your pussy. “Want it here.”

“You want my mouth on your pussy?” he questions, just to be a snot.

“Uh-huh.”

“Say it, sweetheart. Tell me what you need.”

“Need… need you to lick my pussy,” you tell him.

He flattens his tongue, liking a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your head falls back against the pillow as he sucks lightly on your clit. He’s sure of himself, but he still takes the time to explore and try things, figuring out what you like most. He doesn’t mind when you grab his hand and direct him to finger you as well. Real-Sam is turning out to be just as good, if not better than Dream-Sam. He’s a quick study, too, which you’re definitely appreciating as he pushes you into the first of what will likely be many orgasms.

You were right. He makes you cum two more times before you grab his hair and tug him up into a kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, feel his own arousal against your inner thigh.

“I want you in me,” you tell him. “But I’m not sure if you’ll fit.”

“We’ll take it slow,” he promises, already stretching to get a condom from the drawer of his bedside table. “Tell me if it’s too much and we can stop.”

You nod, watching him roll the condom on and add some extra lube. Apparently, this man is prepared for anything. He fucks you with his fingers a little more before replacing them with the tip of his cock.

You have to remind yourself to relax when he begins to push inside. Real-Sam’s cock is thicker at the head than Dream-Sam, so the beginning will be the hardest part. Once you’re past that, everything should get easier. Right now, the stretch is just barely on the good side of painful. When your hand flies up to grab his forearm, Sam freezes.

“You okay?” he asks, hazel eyes studying your expression.

“Just… pull back a little?” you ask.

Sam obeys, backing off a bit until your grip on his arm relaxes. He begins circling his hips, massaging the muscles with his erection until they loosen enough for him to push in again. He keeps a close watch on your face, stopping whenever you need him to. It takes a long time to get the head in, but you can’t hold back a moan when it finally pops past the last ring of tight muscle.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps. “Look at that. How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” you assure him. “Give me a little more.”

He does, a gentle roll of his hips pushing the head deeper. The shaft slides in much easier and with your encouraging, he’s soon buried to the hilt. One of his hands has settled on your lower belly, rubbing soothing circles to ease any ache. The other is on your hip, holding you steady.

“Move,” you say, shifting your own hips experimentally. “But slowly.”

Sam strokes one hand up your side to cup your breasts, thumbing over one nipple at the same time as the other plays circles on your clit. He’s a fast learner, quick to figure out what drives you crazy and work those advantages until he’s turned you into a trembling mess.

“You close, sweetheart?” he coos, leaning in to press soft kisses along the line of your collarbone.

You nod frantically, hands coming up to claw at his shoulders. “Sam, please.”

“Come for me, then,” Sam says. “Come for me.”

He keeps his rhythm steady, instead of speeding up like most guys would, and just works your through your orgasm. You can feel him smiling against your neck.

“Good?” he says with a chuckle.

“Don’t stop.”

“Your wish is my command.”

* * *

Skill  _and_  stamina. How the hell did you get so lucky?

“Damn,” you sigh, looping your arms over Sam’s shoulders when his body slumps over your own.

He chuckles softly, breath warm on your throat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. You trace gently patterns across his upper back while he catches his breath.

Sam sits up, carefully pulling out of you and disposing of the condom. There’s an ache forming low in your belly, but that’s to be expected after taking someone on Sam’s size. It’s not a bad ache, and Sam presses a big hand right over the ache, like he knows from experience where it is- because he probably does. The warmth and pressure are soothing.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?” Sam asks, gently massaging the ache away. He stretches out beside you on the bed.

You shake your head. “A little achy, but it seems like you anticipated that.”

He kisses you softly. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Worth it, trust me.”

Sam tucks you in against his side. “Good to know. Now, sleep or shower?”

“Sleep,” you decide without any hesitation. “A shower can wait.”

“I’m okay with that plan.”

* * *

You’re woken the next morning by Sam slipping from the bed.

“Sam?” you murmur, twisting to blink up at him.

“Morning run, baby,” he tells you. “Want to come with?”

You laugh sleepily and tug at him until he falls back down onto the bed. “Nooooo, stay here!”

“I don’t like missing a day,” he says without any real heat.

“Well, if it’s cardio you’re looking for.” You hook your fingers into the waistband of the boxers he’s already put on. “I think I can help with that.”

“Now that’s a work out I can get behind.”

When you enter the kitchen in Sam’s shirt and boxers, Dean grins and loops you into a hug.

“Told you so,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah. You told me so.”

“Better than your dream?”

“A million times better.”

“Good. And he may be my little brother,” Dean pauses, glancing up when Sam enters the kitchen, “but if he breaks your heart, I’ll kick his ass.”


End file.
